Holy Communion

And when He had taken some bread and given thanks, He broke it and gave it to them, saying, "This is My body which is given for you; do this in remembrance of Me."  And in the same way He took the cup after they had eaten, saying, "This cup which is poured out for your is the new covenant of My blood."  --Luke 22:19-20

When I was a kid we lived in a small town.  This was before the internet, so we had to observe the world from our little corner of it.  A guy I knew had some railroad spikes.  I never knew where he got them from, but he gave me one to keep.  I was fascinated with it, because it was a square nail.

All I had known up to that point was round nails, ones that looked like pins or sewing needles, only bigger.   I had seen large nails before, ones my Dad had called 16-penny nails.  I guess I assumed that all nails were round, and that's just how they were nailed.  In my childhood logic, spikes were just larger nails; all nails were round; therefore, spikes should be round, too.  (It was not until I was much older that I discovered some nails were square, as well--especially ones in older homes, where all the materials were hand-made.  I suppose it is easier for a blacksmith to pound out a nail with four flat sides than it would be to mold a cylindrical one with a cone-shaped point.)

I think of those railroad spikes my friend and I shared every time our church has Communion.  They pass out the elements, and every congregant picks up a tiny cup of red grape juice, and square, flat, tasteless wafer that looks like a tiny cracker.  It is a dull white color, and when placed in the center of your palm, it looks a bit like a four cornered scar.  Kind of like the wound left after the removal of a square spike.

Never having had a spike pierce my palm, my mind immediately turns to Jesus.  He was crucified, meaning He had nails driven through His hands and feet--nails large enough to keep Him from pulling them out of the wooden cross behind him--and He slowly bled to death.  The longer He hung up there, the weaker He became.  As His strength slowly ebbed away, it became more and more difficult to even breathe; painfully pulling Himself up by the spikes in His hand to get a deep breath became next to impossible during the third hour of this torturous ordeal.  "But He was pierced through for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; the chastening for our well-being fell upon Him, and by His scourging we are healed." (Isaiah 53:5)

Knowing that He is God, and that He had all authority at His command makes this sacrificial act all the more amazing.  It was love that kept Him on that cross, not just the nails.  It was mercy that made Him endure the pain and agony--He did not deserve death, but willingly took our punishment for sin upon Himself so that we would no longer live under the curse of sin.

During one communion service a couple of years ago, the pastor asked us all to raise the cup over our heads.  He said he was doing this to show us that we are all under the blood of Jesus.  "How blessed is he whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered." (Psalm 32:1).  It was a physical representation of a spiritual truth, and I have never forgotten it.

So this morning, as the pastor was praying, I positioned the wafer in the palm of my hand, to remind myself of the death that my Savior died for me.   I raised the cup, not as a toast to heaven, but as a symbol that His blood covers me.  Thus blessed, I consumed the wafer and the juice in remembrance of Him.  Thank God I can identify with Christ in this way.  Because of my Christian identity, I can also have the hope of the resurrection.  Just as He was raised from the dead, so too can I be raised on the last day.

Honor.  Healing.  Hope.  This is what makes communion holy.